


Ruthenia

by Ischa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Coming of Age, Detectives, Dragons, Eastern Europe, Family, Friendship, Gay Male Character, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Magic, Shifters, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: Lord Alexander Tarajewitsch shows up on Timothy's doorstep at an unreasonable hour.Timothy has every intention to refuse his case without even having seen the man, but Carter, the boy he had picked up on the ship that had brought him to Ruthenia, already let the Lord in. Besides they really need the money. Their lovely ruin was falling further and further into disrepair and Carter needed new clothes and Timothy's wolf was getting restless. He might as well get up and see what the Lord had gotten himself into.“Good call. He can wait there until he's black,” Timothy said, rolling over and closing his eyes again. Carter was still in the room. Usually he would leave Timothy to his moods, especially after a night of hunting. “What?”“You might want to see him...” Carter said.“Why?”“He's handsome,” Carter replied.“Not gonna get up for a pretty piece of ass I can't have anyway,” Tim was sulky and tired and he knew it too. The manor was so remote it was really hard to find someone willing to fuck, someone with the same tastes and just a little bit clean and attractive. The wolf didn't like this celibacy either.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Ruthenia

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank Ica for hand holding on this and VT for the awesome beta-job.  
> Please let me know if you enjoyed it and want more of Timothy's and Carter's adventures.

~Prologue (One year ago)~

The motion of the ship made Timothy sick. Maybe it wasn’t the motion of the ship, maybe it was something else that he refused to look at too closely.  
Betrayal, hate and shame. He hated the last the most, because it wasn’t something he could hate other people for, only himself.  
The wind picked up and he lost what unsteady footing he had on the planks once again, crashing into the railing painfully. He cursed, colorfully, under his breath. That would be a nice bruise. He rubbed his arm and stared at the endlessly rolling sea.  
He could feel the wolf under his skin: clawing restlessly, howling in Timothy’s head. Wanting out and out and out. The wolf hated the ship as much as Timothy hated it. It was small comfort.  
Neither of them had a say in the matter.  
Shipped away like an unwanted piece of furniture. Discarded and thrown to the curb.  
It wasn’t a big ship, it wasn’t comfortable either. Timothy knew that if something should happen to him before he arrived at his destination his father wouldn’t be too sad about it.  


The first mate was giving him looks he didn’t like. And every time he came too close for comfort the wolf under Timothy’s skin shifted and growled.  
It wouldn’t be a good idea to kill the first mate, or even maim him, but Timothy could hardly be held responsible for the wolf.  
Yeah, right.  


He wondered, as he watched the endless grey sky and rolling sea, if the aunt on the borders of Ruthenia was really waiting for him, or if he would be stranded in a strange land with no family, no money, no home and hardly any means of communication.  
He knew he wouldn’t starve, because the wolf would take care of that, knew he wouldn’t freeze, because the wolf would take care of that, too. But – didn’t they hunt wolves there on principle?  
Was that why he was sent there? To die a horrible death?  
Timothy balled his hands to fists on his side. He wouldn’t.  
He was not going to die and make his father and step-mother happy. He hoped his brother or baby sister would have the wolf under their skin too.  
He didn’t care that it was probably horrible to wish that on an unborn child.  


The first mate brushed by and Timothy suppressed a shiver. It wasn’t only the man’s human stink, Timothy was aware that he would soon smell like unwashed skin and sea salt too, it was something deeper, something bad, something rotten. Something that set the wolf on edge, something Timothy had only seen once and never wanted to see again.  
We should push him over the railing he thought viciously at the wolf, the wolf made an agreeing noise. It settled Timothy’s nerves to know that he wasn’t, when push came to shove, helpless.  
No matter the consequences, he would not die here, he would not be a victim, and above all he would not be prey.  
He could feel the wolf bare its teeth. Long and sharp and deadly.  
It made him feel warm inside.

~+~  
The first mate died three days later, and Timothy felt like he could breathe again. The ship was still small and stinking and full of men he didn’t like and who didn’t like him, and maybe now feared him, because it had been well known that the first mate had set his eyes on Timothy’s light figure. But no one was making a fuss about the first mate because he hadn’t been liked either, on this swimming deathtrap made of wood and iron.  
The wolf wanted to stretch and run, but that wasn’t an option. Usually they would first run in the park and then go hunting for a nice hard fuck in the city, but that wasn’t going to happen here. That wasn’t going to happen for the next few weeks.  
God dammit, Timothy thought, he hated this fucking ship. And his father and Brian for selling him out. The wolf growled. Tim stroked his own wrist in an effort to soothe it. He had been doing that since the wolf first manifested when he had been a child.  
The betrayal…that was all Brian, because Timothy had known there was no love lost between his father and himself. Hadn’t been for years. They had tolerated each other at best.  
His father’s whores, Timothy’s ‘little playthings’ as his father liked to call them. And then fucking Brian, whom Timothy had loved.  
What a horrible fucking pair of sad human beings they had made.  
The wolf growled again and Timothy stroked his wrist gently under the dirty cuff of his coat.  
It was autumn and the sea was rolling dangerously against the ship. 

A small hand landed beside his on the railing. “Maybe we’ll see mermaids,” the boy said. 

Timothy looked down at him. Dirty blond hair, too thin, hands pink from the cold wind.  
“Mermaids?” 

“Yes, Sir,” the boy replied, looking up, his eyes were a piercing green that reminded Timothy of living things and gemstones. He had faint freckles on the tanned face. A bruise was hiding under the collar of his dirty shirt. 

“Is that why you went to sea?” Timothy asked. He hadn’t seen the boy before and wondered how he had missed him. 

The boy shrugged. “You go where they take you.”

“Who?” 

“Whoever buys you,” the boy replied. 

“Who bought you?” 

“Edder,” the boy said. 

Timothy gave him a blank look. He only knew the name of the captain and his name wasn’t Edder. 

“The first mate,” the boy said in nearly a whisper, looking out onto the sea. 

“So, you're free then,” Timothy observed. 

“Maybe they’ll keep me in the galley,” the boy replied without much hope. 

It was more likely he would be sold again once they reached a harbor. A pretty boy could be sold easily enough, Timothy knew. “You like it in the galley?” 

“No one’s touched me there, except to whack me over the head,” the boy grinned, like that was a good thing. 

God, Timothy thought, fuck this. “What’s your name?” 

“Carter, Sir.” 

“And?” 

The boy shrugged again. “Just Carter, Sir.” He looked at the sea again. Endlessly rolling, moving, grey. “Edder used to call me ‘pet’,” he continued in a whisper. “I didn’t like it when he did.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Thirteen Sir.” 

“Really?” 

“In a few months, Sir, sure. What does it matter?” 

Yes, Timothy thought, what did it matter? It wasn’t like he could undo the damage already done.  
“Why do you want to see a mermaid?” 

Carter gave him a searching look like he wasn’t sure what was expected of him. Timothy just let the boy look.  
“Because I’d like to see something magical and extraordinary before I die. Just once.” He sounded wistful and sincere and like he didn’t think he would get much older than he was now. Which was a possibility, if he ended up on the streets, or worse was sold to some sadistic pervert. 

Timothy could feel a tender warmth crawling out from under his skin where the wolf shifted and licked against it. 'Protect' that warmth said, 'claim' it whispered.  
“And what would you do to see that? What would you give?” 

The boy’s green eyes were piercing, spring leaves in sunshine. “Everything, Sir. Everything,” he breathed. 

Timothy looked up into the grey sky. The boy probably didn’t have any useful skills besides sucking cock and – just no. But it would be better to not be alone, wouldn’t it? Have someone except for an old woman for company who spoke his language? 

“You’ll come with me when I leave,” Timothy said, not looking at the boy or making it a question. “You’ll sleep in my quarters from today on.” 

The boy barely hesitated. “Yes, Sir.”

“Move whatever is yours there as soon as possible.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good boy,” Timothy heard himself say and when he looked at Carter again, the boy was staring at him. Eyes wide and soft looking pink lips wet. “Sorry-“ he began, because ‘good boy’ wasn’t so far off from ‘pet’. 

“No, it’s alright,” Carter said hastily. “It’s alright, Sir.”

“Really?” 

“Yes.” Carter said, looking away: his cheeks were a soft pink, maybe a blush, maybe the ruthless wind. 

The wolf under his skin was restless, hot fur pressing against skin. He took a deep breath of the hated sea air and felt the wolf shudder.  
Someone was shouting for Carter. 

“I better go, see you tonight, Sir,” he said, pushing away from the railing and running on steady little feet over the slippery planks. 

Timothy let the wind tear at his black hair and clothes until he couldn’t stand the cold anymore and retired to his cabin. 

~+~  
Carter was silent like a cat, but Timothy was always aware of his surroundings, ever since the first time the wolf manifested. The boy had brought a change of clothes and a wooden figure of a mermaid, god only knew where he got it, to his cabin while Timothy had been having lunch with the captain. He had to admit he liked the captain, who cared for books and could carry a conversation.  
The boy slipped under the covers: naked skin pressed into crumbled clean-ish linen. He could feel Carter’s hot breath through his nightclothes and then Carter put a hand on Timothy’s hip: small fingers pointing inward, sliding teasingly down. Timothy rolled over fast to trap the boy under him. Not touching. Caging the boy nevertheless between his arms. Carter was staring at him, eyes wide and frightened. 'Rabbit' the wolf whispered. 

“Yes,” Timothy hissed. He could hear Carter’s heartbeat too. Too fast, maddeningly so.

The boy bit his lip and then reached out tentatively. Warm, damp skin, bumped against Timothy’s arm. The smell of salt wasn’t all sea now, but also human sweat, a tang of fear Timothy could smell, the wolf inhaled, shifted, pushed.  
Carter gasped.  
Timothy knew his eyes were yellow in the darkness of the cabin. He was ready for Carter to recoil, but his fingers found Timothy’s cheek instead. 

“Yes, what Sir?” he whispered. 

The wolf waited because this was Timothy’s decision. “Nothing,” he said, leaning down and kissing the boy’s forehead. “Nothing at all. Put on your nightclothes.” 

Carter bit his lip. “Don’t have any.” He sounded ashamed and then defensive when he added, “Edder said a pet didn’t need them.” 

The wolf growled and Timothy too. 

“Your eyes,” Carter whispered. 

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” Carter answered, “But not enough.” 

And Timothy laughed into the delicate neck that was so openly offered up. He rolled away from the boy and looked at the low ceiling. “Sleep.”

“But-“

“No buts, sleep,” he said firmly. 

“Yes, Sir,” Carter said, but he didn’t roll away, snuggled instead closer to Timothy. “Is this alright?” 

“Yes,” Timothy replied, because it was and because the wolf felt content like it hadn’t been for weeks.  
Maybe the rest of the journey wouldn’t be as miserable as Timothy had thought. 

~One~  
“Tim!” Carter yelled and Tim's eyes snapped open. He felt tired and cursed, rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow. Whatever it was it could go and fuck itself. He wasn't going to get up now. 

“TIM!” Carter yelled again. 

“What?!” Tim yelled back. The boy was a fucking pain in the ass and not in the fun way either. 

“Visitor!” 

“Send them away,” Tim yelled and closed his eyes, a few moments later he could hear Carter run up the stairs. Great, fucking great. 

Carter tore the door open and then slammed it shut again. “He isn't leaving. So, I told him to wait in the library.” 

The library was one of the rooms that didn't look like it was going to fall apart any second. There weren't many. And Timothy didn't have the money, yet, to restore the whole damn place. They were fixing up what they could. Carter was surprisingly handy with a hammer and nails. He could cook and he could wash and Timothy was very aware that he wouldn’t have survived a week without Carter in this house.  
When they had arrived, finally on the shores of the old land, they were told that Aunt Marisha was dead. The house and what money there was went to Timothy. The servants had taken whatever they could carry out, of course, before Carter and Timothy even made it to the manor. Seventeen years old and living in this ruin. If he hadn't had been so angry he would have cried. 

“Good call. He can wait there until he's black,” Timothy said, rolling over and closing his eyes again. Carter was still in the room. Usually he would leave Timothy to his moods, especially after a night of hunting. “What?” 

“You might want to see him...” Carter said. 

“Why?” 

“He's handsome,” Carter replied. 

“Not gonna get up for a pretty piece of ass I can't have anyway,” Tim was sulky and tired and he knew it too. The manor was so remote it was really hard to find someone willing to fuck, someone with the same tastes and just a little bit clean and attractive. The wolf didn't like this celibacy either. 

Carter sat at the end of the bed, his legs folded under him. “You can use him for your fantasies.” 

“Shut up you little minx.” 

Carter kicked him lightly through the thick blankets. It was cold, because Carter hadn't started a fire yet in the bedroom, probably only the kitchen.  
Carter sensing his thoughts said, “He's probably gonna freeze in the library.” 

“Is there coffee?” 

“There is tea,” Carter said. 

“Did you offer our guest tea?” 

“No,” Carter replied. 

“Good.” 

Carter got up and stretched. Made for the thick curtains. “It's already three, Sir,” he said. The 'Sir' was just there to mock Timothy and Timothy didn’t care. He liked that Carter had come out of his shell over the last year. 

“Don't you dare,” Timothy warned. 

“What will you do? Eat me?” He pulled the curtains open before Timothy could leap out of bed, so he just pulled the blanket over his head. 

“What does he want?” 

“What all of them want, Tim,” Carter sighed. “Your help.” He stayed silent for a moment and added, “We could use the money. He seems like someone who can afford to pay a bit more.”  
They had enough firewood. The lands around the manor were theirs. Well, Timothy's, but what was his was Carter's too. But they needed food and clothes too. 

“Fine,” Timothy said, emerging from the blankets. “Offer him tea and some of those Ruthenian cookies.” 

“As if that would make him feel welcome, now,” Carter replied. 

“Go,” Timothy said. 

Carter sketched a bow and left the room.  
The room was fucking freezing. Timothy put on socks and the thick rabbit fur lined robe, ran a hand through his hair and went downstairs. Whoever was waiting there would surely have heard the rumors. Mostly all of them were true. Except the one about him eating babies. Neither he nor the wolf had a taste for that kind of human flesh. He shook that thought off and opened the door to the library. Carter was just starting the fire, but a nice hot stone was lying on Timothy's favorite armchair. He loved Carter. On some days more than on others. There was also a steaming mug of tea. He grabbed it and sat and then he looked at the man who had gotten up as Timothy had entered the room. 

“So?” he lifted an eyebrow. 

The man stared at him for a few moments. Carter had been right, he was pretty. Tall, dark brown hair, very skinny, even if he tried to hide it with very good tailoring. Blue eyes, cobalt. Like cornflowers. Timothy put him in his late twenties, early thirties. 

“Lord Alexander Konstantinovich Tarajewitsch,” the man said. He was shivering in the cold air and trying to not show it. 

“Get the Lord a warm blanket,” Timothy said to Carter. 

“Sure, Sir.” 

“That's not necessary,” The Lord tried. 

“You're shivering like a leaf,” Timothy observed. “Whatever you heard about me, you should know I won't let anyone freeze in my own home.” 

“Yes, thank you,” Lord Alexander replied. “I'm sorry I woke you, calling on you this early unannounced.”

Timothy smiled sweetly from behind his mug. “It is only three in the afternoon.” 

Lord Alexander tried to suppress a laugh. There was something around him, that Timothy could barely make out, he would have to touch the Lord to see what it was, but it made the wolf growl lowly. It was probably the problem that the Lord wanted to have solved. “I am well aware that your callers are usually more discrete.” 

Was that a double meaning? Because Timothy hadn’t fucked anyone in this house for months. But it was true enough that usually people who wanted his help came under the cover of the night. It had stung in the beginning, but he was over it now. 

“Your blanket, your Lordship,” Carter said.  
He startled Alexander visibly. Carter was silent like a cat, could slip in and out of rooms unnoticed by pretty much anyone. “Catch,” Carter said and threw the blanket. 

To their surprise the Lord caught it, wrapped it around his shoulders and stood before the fire. His back was broad, but again Timothy thought it wasn't quite right. He should have more muscles. His fingers looked like sticks. Long and slender. He had been losing weight, rapidly. Something was eating at him. He studied the man, the glow of the fire was shrinking away from him. Like it had a mind of its own. Interesting.

“Thank you,” Alexander said eventually. 

“Haven't done anything yet,” Carter replied. 

Lord Alexander turned slightly to look over his shoulder at them. Carter was sitting on a cushion at Timothy's feet. Playing with the water in his glass. He did that often, Carter liked water. Loved it, really. 

“Why exactly are you here Lord Tarajewitsch?”

“Because I was told, you could help me...” he trailed off. Timothy hadn’t given him his name. He knew of course, but it wouldn’t do to just use Timothy's first name without permissions. 

“You can call me Timothy,” Timothy said. “You’ll have to see me as something like a doctor.” 

“I don't call my doctor by his first name,” Alexander replied. 

Timothy liked his voice, smooth and melodic, shaping the Slavic words so easily, effortlessly where Timothy sometimes still struggled. Carter of course had no problems. He was picking up the language like it was nobody's business. Kids, Timothy thought fondly and stroked Carter's hair. Carter leaned into it. Alexander's eyes stayed a long moment on Timothy's hand in Carter's hair. Oh, Timothy thought. Maybe it had been a good idea after all to come down. The wolf shifted under his skin. Sniffed, interested. Laid back and observed. 

“That is your business of course, but this is the name I give you to use,” Timothy said, smiling. 

“Thank you, Timothy,” Alexander replied. 

“Would you sit down now?” Timothy asked, it occurred to him that he hadn’t in fact offered the Lord a seat. 

“Thank you,” he pulled the blanket tighter around him and sat gracefully in the chair. He stared at something on the opposite wall for a moment before his eyes focused on Timothy again. 

“How can I help you?” Tim asked, because by now he was intrigued. 

“I think,” Alexander began a bit hesitantly now that he had to actually say the words, “I’ve been cursed.”

Carter snorted. “Obviously.”

Alexander gave him an angry look. He probably wondered why Timothy kept such an unruly and rude servant. Probably knew the rumors about him and Carter too. People told all kinds of nasty things about the two boys living in the ruin in the woods. Not that those were true. Not that Timothy wasn’t aware sometimes Carter wished they were. 

“There is something wrong about you,” Timothy replied. “You lost a lot of weight recently.” It wasn’t really a question. 

“Yes, and it’s not stopping,” Alexander said. 

“Did you piss off a Gypsy?” Carter asked. “By being greedy maybe?” 

“Young sir, I would never –“

“Alright.” Timothy interrupted. “But good thinking Carter.” 

Carter shrugged. “It’s up their alley.”

It was. A self-devouring curse was a Gypsy specialty. Timothy had seen what it could do to a person and this looked similar, but something…

“What about the flames?” Timothy asked the Lord. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“The fire? Doesn’t seem to like you very much right now,” Timothy said. 

Alexander thought about it before he nodded. “That is true.” 

“And you’re constantly cold?” 

“Yes,” Alexander said. “Can you help me?” 

Timothy finished his tea. This was the crucial point, wasn’t it? Timothy didn’t know. He could try, of course, but…sometimes people died anyway. It wasn’t an exact science and he hadn’t been doing it that long yet.  
“Yours is not a simple case,” Timothy said. “There is no guaranty I will be able to lift this curse, or whatever it is. Do you understand?” 

Alexander closed his eyes briefly. He did understand and he didn’t like it. “But you will try?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Timothy replied. “I will try.” 

Alexander nodded. 

~+~  
Alexander stayed for breakfast, mostly because Timothy had insisted, and sane people tried not to insult or piss off a witch. Not that Tim was one, but he had something of a reputation now as a curse-breaker. Amongst other things.  
He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to do what he was doing now for money if he weren’t what he was. The wolf was the one who saw and smelled these things. Like a sickness in the human body. 

“I will have to examine you,” Timothy said, between bites of bread with wild honey. 

Alexander was sipping his coffee. He was still wearing the blanket and Carter had heated up a pillow full of cherry stones for him too. “Of course.”

“I hope you aren’t shy,” Carter teased. 

Alexander gave him a tired look. “No, not particularly, not around my doctor.” 

That made Timothy smile. “Good.” 

They finished their breakfast and stayed in the kitchen because it was the warmest place in the manor. Timothy ordered the Lord to strip. Carter was pushing furniture out of the way, so Timothy would have room. Or more accurately so the wolf would have room.  
Soon the Lord was shivering in his underwear. 

“Everything,” Timothy said. He could feel the wolf sniff and pace restlessly under his skin. 

Alexander nodded briskly and stripped. He had a few scars, but overall, Timothy thought life had been good to Lord Tarajewitsch.  
“Give me your hand,” Timothy said and Alexander did. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone what you will see here. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” Alexander answered, and Timothy let go of him. 

It was an enchantment, very subtle, and pretty much the only one Timothy could work effortlessly and without anything ever going wrong. It had been in one of his aunt’s books. Timothy had tried other things, but they never worked as he intended. Carter thought he just needed more practice.  
Once Alexander agreed to never tell another soul what he would see, he wouldn’t be able to describe it even if he should try. Better safe, Timothy thought, than sorry, in this case.  
Timothy didn’t have to strip for this part and he wasn’t going to. He just let the wolf out. It felt like warm mist over his skin, gathering at the base of his neck until the wolf emerged and landed on the hard stone floor of the kitchen.  
Timothy could hear Alexander gasp, but it was faint like he was hearing through cotton. He knew his eyes were misty and yellow – like a pale sun -, instead of their usual violet color, because Carter had once described it to him.  
The wolf was in charge now. He could feel the wolf move around Alexander, sniff and lick and taste. Could feel Alexander shiver under the wolf’s touch. But they were all faint impressions.  
And once the wolf was done Timothy reached out blindly; as soon as his fingertips touched the ghostly fur they were one again. His eyes cleared. He looked at the Lord. 

“You have been cursed,” he stated.

“Obviously,” Alexander said, as Carter handed the Lord his clothes. “What was that?” he gestured to Timothy’s form. 

“Me,” Timothy replied, shrugging. 

“What happens now?” The Lord wanted to know once he was dressed again and the blanket was firmly around his shoulders. 

“Now I will find a way to help you,” Timothy answered calmly. He was pretty confident there would be something in his late aunt’s books and journals to give him a clue with what he was dealing here.  
He didn’t feel calm. He felt weak and shivery, separating the wolf from himself always did that, but he wasn’t going to show it. 

“You pay up front,” Carter piped in. 

“Excuse me?” 

Carter glared at the Lord. “This consultation wasn’t free, the next few days will be hard work, you pay up front, besides, if you die, who will pay us then? If you don’t want to pay, you can go now.” Carter’s voice was hard. “It’s your funeral.” 

Alexander swallowed whatever he wanted to answer and asked how much instead. Carter named a horrendous sum, that was paid without any hesitation.  
Desperation would do that to a person.  
They had themselves a deal. 

~Two~  
The next few days Timothy spent poring over books and ancient diaries and not getting anywhere.  
It wasn’t a curse he had come across yet and it wasn’t something he could just intuitively break. He was doing this for only a bit over six months and it showed in the lack of experience.  
Carter put a mug of tea and some sandwiches on the table and flopped down on one of the chairs.  
“You don’t want the Lord to die, do you?” Carter asked. 

Timothy rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, if I can help him, I will.” 

“It doesn’t really matter…he paid us already,” Carter said, always the pragmatic one. 

Timothy smiled wryly at him, took a sip of hot tea and said, “But it would still be bad for business.” 

“Sometimes people die,” Carter shrugged, curling into the chair. 

“I know. But a Lord? We could use more well-paying customers.” 

“It’s not like we need much. I mean, even when we have no money to buy food, you can just hunt it down. This is your land.” 

“I don’t want to live in a rotting house that is about to cave in and live on meat only, do you?” Tim asked. It was a rhetorical question, he knew they both wanted better. 

“I could start a vegetable garden, behind the kitchen. Some herbs too,” Carter said. 

“That is a good idea, but we still will have to buy seeds and stuff…” Timothy had no idea how to grow vegetables, what would even grow in this part of the land and on this soil?

“Stuff, he says,” Carter grinned. “I can do it.” 

“I know you can,” Timothy said. He wasn’t as helpless as he had been a year ago, but he still left the housework mostly to Carter. The boy was good at it, did it gladly and it kept him out of trouble. 

“Eat your sandwich, you need to keep up your strength. The Lord will be here around seven,” Carter said.

“I know,” Timothy told Carter’s back. The boy was out the door a moment later, to do god only knew what.  
Timothy liked to check in with his clients at least every three days if it was a curse that would take longer to break. Just to see how much time they had left.  
Time was running out for the Lord. Alexander could feel it too. Most people would be angry at their lot in life, but Alexander seemed strangely resigned to it.  
He bit into his sandwich. Well, maybe Alexander had given up on himself, that didn’t mean that Tim had too. He wasn’t going to let whatever ate at him kill Alexander. Over the last two weeks he had grown fond of the Lord.  
He finished his sandwich and closed the book he’d been reading. He was going about this all wrong. He thought about it as a curse and it had all the signs of a consumption curse, but it wasn’t one. There was the fire for one.  
The fire. It was actually, all about the fire, Tim thought. He sat up in his chair and stared at the wall. 

“CARTER!” 

The boy came running so fast he nearly slammed into the doorframe as he entered. “Bloody hell! You aren’t dying.”

Tim looked at him. “No, I’m not.” 

“So what ?” Carter asked.

“What do you know about dragons?” 

Carter rubbed his forehead like he was getting a headache. “What do I know about dragons? That they’re extinct, that’s what I know about them.”  
Tim gave him a look and Carter sighed. “Really?”

“Well…the fire. It’s odd, but it seems to shy away from im, fuck that. It shies away from Alexander.”

“First name basis, hmm? What next? Cozy meals and slow fucking in front of the fire?” Cater asked. 

“Jealous?” 

Carter smiled, it was cute and wicked and Tim should not be thinking about Carter’s mouth. “No, I’ll just watch then.”

“Carter.”

“Fine,” Carter said. “But wouldn’t the fire be eager to please a dragon? It’s what I read. Command over the fire.”

“Yes…but what if it’s an ice-dragon?” 

“Easy way to find out then. If he can command ice, or snow, you’re on to something.” 

It was clear from Carter’s tone that he thought Tim was nuts or desperate or maybe both. Tim knew he wasn’t nuts, but he was desperate.  
“Do we have ice?” Tim asked, because he honestly didn’t know. It was cold as fuck, yes, but had it snowed yet? He hadn’t been outside in days. 

Carter rolled his eyes. “Yes, we do. I brought in some last night, because we don’t have an Icebox. You know to keep things fresh.”

“No one likes a smartass.”

“Not true and you know it,” Carter replied. 

“Would you please fetch the ice then as soon as Lord Tarajewitsch arrives?” 

“No pleasantries, I see,” Carter said. 

“I don’t think Lord Tarajewitsch has time for pleasantries,” Tim replied. 

“You like that guy?” 

Tim shrugged. “He pays well. Maybe we can use him to snare more paying customers.” 

“You want to become the next Rasputina?”

Tim gave him a coquettish look. “I’m way prettier.”

“Aye,” Carter said and Tim knew that he meant it. It was always there, Carter’s attraction to him. Shimmering. 

Tim was searching for something to say, but Carter let him off the hook. “Well, I have chores to get back to. See you at dinner.”

“Yes,” Tim replied. 

~+~  
Lord Tarajewitsch looked even thinner now. There was a bluish ting to his lips and his eyes were slowly changing color. 

“Hmm…” Carter said as he handed two blankets to the Lord. 

Tim was pretty sure that he was on to something here. 

“Timothy,” Alexander said. 

“Lord Tarajewitsch,” Tim replied. “Please have a seat.”

Alexander thanked him and sat down, huddled into the armchair. “I fear next time you will have to make a house call,” he said with a wry smile. “I can barely make it out of the house these days.” 

“I hope that won’t be necessary,” Tim replied. He had been reading up on dragons. Of course most of it was nonsense, but there were a few reports that seemed similar to what Alexander was dealing with. 

That wry smile again. “Because I will be dead or because you found a cure?”

“Neither,” Tim replied. 

Lord Tarajewitsch gave him an inquiring look. “But you did find something about my condition?” 

“Yes,” Tim said. There was no easy way to break it to Alexander, so he wasn’t going to try. Alexander waited patiently, or as patiently as a man who was just told that he might not die after all, could be expected to. “I have a theory.”

“Go on please,” Alexander said. 

Carter snorted. Tim ignored it. 

“I think you are turning into a dragon.” 

Alexander stared at him. “I see,” he said after a lengthy pause. 

“You think I’m crazy,” Tim stated. 

“No, I -,” he cut himself off, took a breath. “I think I was wrong to trouble you in the first place.” The Lord had manners, Tim would give him that. 

“Carter,” Tim said. 

“Yep, one moment,” Carter replied and vanished into the kitchen. 

“We can find out once and for all if I am right,” Tim said. “With your permission.”

“Do I have to strip again?” 

Tim smiled. “No, you don’t.” 

“That is good, because I’m not sure I could without assistance,” Alexander replied. Tim was pretty sure the Lord was flirting a bit with him. He didn’t know how he felt about it. 

Tim was spared from answering by Carter’s arrival with a bowl filled with ice.  
“If I am right you will be able to manipulate the ice in the bowl,” Tim explained. “Carter.” 

Carter nodded and placed the bowl in Alexander’s lap. 

“How?” Alexander asked. 

“Just think of a shape and it should do the trick,” Tim answered. He was guessing here, it wasn’t like he knew much about real magic. He was still learning his trade himself.

Alexander stared at the bowl and nothing happened. “I’m not a dragon then.”

Tim frowned. “Close your eyes, please?”

Alexander gave him a look but did as Tim asked. 

“Just breathe,” Tim said in a low voice. “In and out and in again.”

Alexander did, he was relaxing, the shivering slowed down and then the ice in the bowl was shaping itself. Tim nearly gasped, but bit his tongue just in time. The ice was a tiny wolf now, looking at Tim, sniffing the air. “Open your eyes for me, Lord Tarajewitsch.”  
The Lord did and slowly too, like he was waking up from a pleasant dream. He blinked and the tiny wolf looked at the Lord. 

“Oh,” the Lord said. “Are you doing this?”

“No, you are,” Tim said with a smile. 

Alexander took the cold bowl with the tiny wolf inside in his hands and looked at it. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.” 

“I made this?”

“You can manipulate ice and snow,” Tim answered, nodding. 

“Where does that leave me?” The Lord asked. The wolf curled up in the bowl and watched them with pale eyes. 

“Obviously you’re human too. Part dragon,” Tim stopped, thinking it over. “Someone down your family line maybe had…” he trailed off. 

“Fucked a dragon,” Carter supplied. 

“What?” The Lord sounded scandalized. 

“They are shifters,” Tim said. 

“Shifters?” The word seemed unfamiliar to him. 

“Skinwalkers,” Carter supplied.

“Oh,” Alexander said. He looked from the tiny now sleeping wolf to Tim. “Good, but what will happen now?”

“Now you have to accept the part of you that is the dragon, or it will consume you and you will die.” 

“Will I be a skinwalker too? Turn into a dragon?” He asked. 

“I don’t know,” Tim replied. “You, my Lord, are the first dragon I have ever encountered. As they are supposedly extinct.”

“And I’m not even a full dragon, just a bastard,” the Lord said. His tone was flat. Tim could see how this could be an imposition for someone like Lord Alexander Konstantinovich Tarajewitsch.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Carter threw in. “It’s not like you fucked a dragon. Funny fact? Most dragons were actually female, if you believe in these things.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better about my family line,” the Lord replied. 

Carter shrugged. 

“You are still you, but with powers now. You won’t die as long as you accept the dragon. Don’t fight it.” Tim tried to explain. He had always embraced the wolf inside him, but then he had been a rather lonely child. It nagged at Tim that he didn’t know why the dragon had chosen to manifest now. It had been there sleeping for all of Alexander’s life after all. Peaceful and not threatening Alexander’s life. And according to the reports and Tim’s own experience these things usually manifested during childhood or puberty not adulthood. It was a bit worrying. 

“Don’t you feel better already?” Tim asked. The Lord stopped shivering and he looked a lot calmer too. 

Alexander nodded slowly. “Yes, I do. Since I made…the wolf,” he stared at it again and as if sensing his stare, it turned its head and looked at him calmly. 

The wolf inside Tim stirred, like it wanted to play.  
A smile played at the corner of his mouth as he nudged the wolf with a finger, the wolf leaned into it. 

“Maybe that is your way then,” Tim said. “Shape and reshape the ice.” 

The wolf curled up on Alexander’s hand and it didn’t melt. Alexander was keeping it from melting.  
“Thank you,” Alexander said after a long silence. 

“You are welcome,” Tim replied. 

Alexander looked at him then. “I rather thought this whole business would be more…sinister.”

“Ah, do you want me to draw a circle of power and light some candles? Some chants and special oils maybe?”

Alexander laughed. “No, it’s alright. This is perfectly alright.” 

“Cup of tea to celebrate your recovery?” Tim asked. 

“Yes, thank you, that would be nice.” 

Tim gave Carter a look. Carter gave him one right back, but then went to the kitchen to prepare tea. 

~+~  
Lord Tarajewitsch stayed another three hours and Tim could see progress. The longer Alexander played around with the ice, the better he seemed to be feeling. 

“Don’t forget to recommend us to all your cursed friends,” Carter said as the Lord stood and was ready to leave. 

“I actually don’t have any cursed friends,” Alexander replied. “Thank god.”

“Timothy does Tarot readings too. Hit during soirees.” 

“Carter!” Tim said. 

Carter grinned. “Just saying.” 

Tim was ready to kick the boy, because he did not do soirees. Or Tarot readings.

Alexander seemed intrigued for a moment, but to Tim’s relief let it slide. 

“It was a pleasure,” Alexander said, offering Tim his hand. 

Tim shook it.  
They said their goodbyes and Tim fell into an armchair once he saw the Lord out. 

“Well,” Carter said. “Don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.”

“What makes you say that?” 

Carter gave him a look. “Something has triggered the dragon.” 

“Yeah,” Tim said, agreeing wholeheartedly with Cater.

“Come on Tim, go to bed, it’s getting late and you hardly slept the last few days trying to save that man’s life.” 

Tim could feel the sleep dragging him under. He got to his feet and then stumbled up the stairs. Sleep sounded like an excellent idea. 

~Three~  
“Rise and shine,” Carter said, and Tim groaned into his pillow. He pulled the blanket over his head to make it very clear to Carter that he didn’t want to get up. He was not a fan of rising and shining, not right now at least. Tim didn’t think that Carter would care, but Tim could be stubborn too. 

“Go away,” he hissed. He hadn’t slept well. Dreams of his past had plagued him. Or to be more accurate: nightmares. 

“The Lord is back,” Carter replied. “And it’s past noon, Timothy.”

Tim didn’t care that it was past noon. He was tired. It seemed to him like he hadn’t been sleeping for days. His bones ached, his muscles too. He felt old. 

“He doesn’t have an appointment,” Tim tried again, but he could hear Carter moving in the room. 

“He doesn’t, but we knew he would be back, and he pays well, Tim. We need the money. The mansion needs to be fixed or we will be homeless soon enough,” Carter reminded him and then he was right there. Tim could feel his presence at the bed and a moment later the blanket was pulled away. Tim refused to open his eyes, but he knew that it would not help him. Carter was on a mission and when he got like that nothing could stop the fourteen-year-old menace. 

“Fine,” Tim said, longsuffering. What did it matter really? He wasn’t getting any quality sleep anyway. It was all turning and tossing when he tried. He opened his eyes and Carter blinked down at him. His green eyes looked concerned. 

“You look like shit, Tim,” he said, crossing his arms over his thin chest. 

“Thank you. I always love to hear that first thing in the morning,” Tim replied. 

Carter huffed. “I mean it. You look worse than yesterday and I know for a fact that you went to bed early.”

“Did you make tea?” Tim asked. 

Carter nodded. “Yes, I even offered the Lord some.”

“I will be right down,” Tim said. 

Carter gave him another look, but then just shrugged. “I will entertain him then.” 

Tim waved him off and once Carter had left the room, Tim got out from under the blanket and furs he had piled on top of himself. He rummaged in his trunk for something warm to wear, put on clothes, splashed some water on his face, combed his black hair and then – without another look in the mirror, because what good would it do at this point? – he went downstairs to the library where Lord Alexander was seated with a cup of tea. 

Lord Alexander looked up from his cup once Timothy entered. His gaze swept over Tim and he frowned. “It looks like you caught whatever I had the last time I came here.” 

Tim sighed. “I assure you it is nothing.” He made his way to the one other decent armchair they had, although it was patched in some places with fabric they had found in the attic. Carter had done a pretty good job of it. The boy was really handy.

Lord Alexander looked good. His cheeks weren’t hollow, and he seemed to have gained weight again in the two weeks since Timothy had seen him last. Soon he would be back to his old handsome self, Timothy was sure. 

“What can I do for you today, Lord Tarajewitsch?” Tim asked as Carter handed him a cup with hot tea and a piece of bread with butter and honey. Tim’s stomach rumbled softly in appreciation of the food. 

Lord Alexander straightened in the armchair and looked at Tim. “I think you should call me by my first name, Timothy, as you saved my life. Please call me Alexander.” 

Tim took a sip of his warm sweet tea. “What can I do for you today, Alexander. You seem better already. The curse wasn’t lifted but I imagine you’re using your new abilities to your advantage?”

“I think it was lifted or well, maybe transformed by you,” Alexander argued. 

“Hardly by me. You are doing all the work by practicing these skills and making the dragon part of yourself.”

“The Dragon Lord,” Carter piped in. “Has a nice ring to it.” 

Timothy had to admit that it was true. 

Alexander smiled, just this small thing that curved his lips. It looked nice, that smile. Inviting. “I’m not thinking about changing my name anytime soon.”

Tim took another sip of his tea and then started on his bread.  
Once he had eaten half the slice of bread, he looked at Alexander again. “So, why are you here, Lord Alexander? Without an appointment no less,” he teased. 

“I was thinking and reading up on these skinwalker traits, and as you surely know, these things usually don’t manifest so late in life. I am twenty-six after all already.”

“Practically ancient,” Carter snorted, and Tim gave him a look. Carter just shrugged, unapologetic as ever. 

“Please go on Lord Alexander,” Tim said. 

“My dragon ancestry must have been triggered somehow. By someone who wanted me to- well, die, I think.” Alexander looked queasy for a moment there. He seemed like such a gentle soul to Tim in that moment. The wolf was in agreement with Timothy. The wolf liked Alexander a lot. He wanted to see more of the Lord. 

“I think you are spot on,” Carter said. “If Tim hadn’t figured it out you would have been consumed by the dragon and it would have looked like a rare illness.” 

Alexander nodded. 

Carter crossed his arms over his chest and Tim nodded at him to go on while he finished his bread and tea. “Which brings us to the important question, Lord Tarajewitsch. Who might have known about the dragon and who was to gain from your death?”

“Now that you miraculously recovered, they might seek other means to get rid of you, Lord Alexander,” Timothy added. 

“That thought crossed my mind as well. I don’t have enemies-“

Carter snorted and Alexander looked at him. The Lord was probably not used to being interrupted in that way or any other, but he seemed rather amused by Carter’s behavior. He raised both eyebrows in question.  
Carter was only too happy to oblige, Tim knew. 

“You’re a Lord, rich, handsome, well connected. I bet you have a lot of enemies you aren’t even aware of. Or well, maybe not enemies, but people who want what you have, who maybe have found a way to get it once you are gone.”

Alexander seemed to consider this deeply. Tim and Carter let him think on it for a while in silence.  
“The next one in line for my title is my Uncle,” Alexander said, carefully. “But he is rich as well. I mean, he doesn’t need my money, right?”

Timothy exchanged a look with Carter.  
“Maybe gambling debts?” Tim asked. It was very common after all. Wealthy people liked to gamble, because what could possibly go wrong, right? They had stable incomes from all kinds of sources after all. 

Alexander shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“A mistress then?” Carter said. 

Alexander blinked. “I never really paid any attention to the women he meets with. He isn’t married. Widowed and no children.”

“Your Uncle is rather young, still,” Timothy said. 

Alexander nodded, absentminded and then looked at Tim. “How do you know that?”

“We looked into the people who are close to you, made a few subtle inquiries,” Tim admitted. “We didn’t hear anything about debts either, or a mistress, but if you should die, he would gain the most.”

“Or maybe the someone who cursed you, would get rid of your Uncle as well,” Carter threw in. 

It was a thought Tim had entertained too, but to be honest, they didn’t have many other suspects. 

“He doesn’t seem sick to me at all,” Alexander replied. 

“You saw him recently?” Timothy asked. 

“He visited me just the other day, said he wanted to see how I was doing,” Alexander confirmed. “He did look a bit shocked to see me improving so fast, but I guess everyone is. I was after all at the brink of death.” 

“Just be careful,” Carter huffed. 

“I will,” he looked at his hands and then into Tim’s eyes. “I was hoping there is something you could do to find the person who had cursed me.”

“I probably can sniff them out, but I hope you realize that the person who cursed you was probably paid for it, like I was paid to lift that curse. It was just a job to them.”

“A job,” Alexander echoed angrily. Tim could understand the anger, but he could also understand any witch, sorceress, warlock or wizard, and other forms of magic users taking the work. It was their work, their pride, their livelihood. 

“What Tim means is that it wasn’t anything personal,” Carter cut in. 

“It felt very personal to me,” Alexander replied. 

Timothy sighed. “Yes, of course, but it wouldn’t do to punish a witch or wizard for doing a job they were paid for.”

“And get on their bad side,” Carter added. Which was of course true. Magic users didn’t take kindly to being persecuted. They were a tight knit community and could make life very hard for people who crossed them. 

“You tell me to do nothing?” Alexander asked. 

“I’m afraid I am a curse breaker. I am good at it, getting better every day, but I can’t work any protection charms,” Tim explained. Or much of anything else, he thought privately. He had stumbled into this line of work only a few months ago after all. 

“You do have a sharp mind,” Alexander replied. 

“It pains me to say this, but I think someone else might be more suited to help you,” Tim said. 

Alexander shook his head. “To be frank I don’t trust anyone else. Someone out there cursed me for money. What if I ask that person to help me? How am I to know who did it?”

“I could find out for you,” Tim reminded him. 

“Yes.” Lord Alexander said with a finality that was kind of scary. “I want to hire you as my detective, I guess.”

Tim blinked at him. “I have no idea why you would want to do that. I never did anything like this before and frankly I don’t think I should get involved like this.” 

“I will pay you handsomely,” Alexander said. 

“How handsomely?” Carter asked before Tim could tell the Lord no again. 

Lord Alexander named a sum and Tim’s heart nearly missed a beat. 

“Deal,” Carter said. “Half upfront, we will need it for travel I imagine.”

Alexander nodded, while Tim sat there in silence. He knew he should say no, should stop Carter from making that decision, but he just - didn’t. A big part of him was relieved that Carter made that decision, he wanted to help Alexander, but he had no idea how to go about it. Now he had to try his best to solve this case. Preferably before there was another attempt on Alexander’s life.

~+~  
“You got it in writing,” Tim said that evening as they were sitting in front of the fire. 

“Yes, because we both have been screwed over in the past by people,” Carter replied, he was playing with a glass of water again. Tim wonder if it was like meditation to him. “I don’t think Lord Tarajewitsch is a bad guy, or that he would go back on the deal, but I figure better save than sorry. Besides if this is going to be something we will be doing going forward, then it’s better to start things right.” 

Which was of course true. 

“I just don’t know.”

“Know what? This is a good opportunity. The wolf detective,” Carter said. 

Tim looked at him. “Seriously? That is what I am going to be? A detective?”

Carter shrugged. “Did you have a plan for your life?”

The thing was he had one before his father had shipped him off because he was unnatural in all the wrong ways. 

“This way you can help people with your magic, your wolf and your brain,” Carter added. “With a few well-paying clients we could either abandon this place for something better or fix it up.”

“I have to admit it feels like home.”

“Grew on you, did it?” Carter grinned. “I was thinking we could demolish the parts that are in very bad shape and redo and fix what is left so it suits or taste and needs more.” 

Tim nodded. “Yeah. But either way it will be expensive.”

“You would be probably the only magic-using detective around these parts. You are aware of that, right?” Carter asked. 

He was aware of that now.  
“Wolf detective,” Tim said. He kind of liked how it sounded. 

Carter grinned. “I knew you would come around.” 

“I still don’t know how to go about this,” Tim confessed. 

Carter waved it away. “You have the wolf and simple magic, you’re smart too. I am inventive and good with my hands.”

“You’re smart too,” Tim said gently, and Carter blushed before he turned away, so that Tim couldn’t see his face anymore. They both stared at the fireplace where the fire was cheerily dancing. 

“Anyhow, between the two of us, I am sure we will be able to solve Lord Tarajewitsch’s case.” 

“Yes,” Tim said and with every case after that they would gain more experience, wisdom and a reputation.  
Maybe this was what he was meant to do with his life. The wolf seemed to agree with him. The wolf loved the hunt after all, it kept him entertained. 

Carter stretched. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow we will hunt down the magic user who cursed the Lord and once we have that thread the whole thing will unfold, I’m sure.” He took the water glass with him as he left the library. 

Tim didn’t think it would be that easy, but he was aware that he had advantages other people didn’t. The wolf snorted as if he agreed.  
Tim smiled, if he was honest with himself, he kind of loved the hunt too. 

~Four~  
“That was a bust,” Carter said, falling gracelessly into one of their good chairs. It was clear to them both that the library would pretty much stay like it was now. They both liked it. It helped that it was the warmest room, beside the kitchen, during the long winter months.  
Tim nodded, taking off his fur -coat.  
Carter sighed and then made to get up. 

“Just stay where you are, Carter,” Tim said. 

“The fire?” Carter asked. 

“I am perfectly able to make one,” Timothy answered, making his short way to the fireplace. The wood had already been stacked, because Carter saw to that every evening before he went to bed.

“I’m not going to fight with you about it, but while you get it going, I think I will fix us something to eat,” Carter said and got up from the chair. 

The boy was nearly swallowed by the fur-coat he was wearing. Tim still thought Carter was too thin, but he was doing and looking way better than he used to when Tim had met him upon the ship that had brought them here.  
Tim nodded; he could eat something. They had been out all-day pursuing leads and making inquiries about the local occult community. They had only had breakfast and then some unsatisfying supper at a tavern. They hadn’t found the person who had cursed Lord Alexander yet, but the wolf had found a trail. Tim didn’t know how the wolf sniffed out magic, but he did. Whenever someone was using magic, or if someone was cursed, or someone had a latent streak of it, the wolf could sniff it out. It was different with shifters, while the wolf could sense or smell people who had come into their shifter abilities, he could not do so with someone whose shifter traits were dormant. That was the reason why the wolf hadn’t known that Lord Alexander had been fighting his own shifter abilities. It had registered as magic to both the wolf and Tim.  
Maybe there was a way to remedy it, but Tim had too much on his mind right now to think too deeply on it. It wasn’t a problem either. What did he care if some kid didn’t know they were a shifter?  
He got the fire going and took off his boots. His socks needed to be mended, or he would need some new ones. Carter could probably use a few new items of clothing as well. The boy was still growing.  
He closed his eyes as warmth spread through him. 

“You look cozy,” Carter said, and Tim blinked his eyes open. 

“Well, it is cozy,” he replied. 

“Eat something, have some tea,” Carter said, setting a tray on the small table the armchairs flanked. 

“Thank you,” Tim replied. 

Carter shrugged. “Someone needs to take care of you.”

“The task should not fall to a fourteen-year-old boy.”

“I’m used to caring for people’s needs,” Carter said, staring into the fire. “Been doing it for years before we even met.”

The reminder was sharp and made the wolf growl. It was easy to forget sometimes what Carter had been through. 

He clapped his hands and looked at Tim. “Anyhow, I like doing it. You’re good people, Timothy.”

“Thank you, but I think I should also contribute more to- everything.”

Carter snorted. “Okay, but just so you know. I have it all covered. I know what I’m doing and to be honest, this is the best home I ever had.”

“You’re living in a ruin with a wolf-shifter who aspires to be a detective,” Tim said. 

“Yes,” Carter replied, nodding. There was a world of words and things he wasn’t saying, but they came across loud and clear. 

Carter felt safe here, he felt cherished and loved and needed – in a good way. Tim had the urge to ruffle his blond hair, but then poured them both tea instead. They ate in companiable silence. 

~+~  
“Hmm, yes I did put a spell on him,” the woman said. Tim was sure there had been a name on the front door, but it escaped him now. She was in her mid-thirties, her dark hair shiny and long and her skin white and nearly blemish-free. The wolf could smell the magic on her. She came from a long line of witches. She gave him a playful look. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Tim felt her gaze everywhere. He wasn’t sure she could see the wolf inside him, but she could surely sense something about him was different. He had knocked on her door roughly half an hour ago without a real plan. Her house was smaller than his, but in far better shape. To his surprise she had invited him in and even had offered him tea. The wolf had sniffed it and declared it perfectlyfine. 

“Your magical signature is rather unique,” Tim answered. All signatures were rather unique, they all smelled differently to the wolf.

She nodded but didn’t say anything else. 

“I was wondering if you could tell my who hired you?” Tim asked. He wasn’t very good at this yet and he knew it. Hell, Carter would have probably been better at interrogating people than Tim was. 

She laughed in his face. “Oh, sweetcakes, no. I don’t think so. I mean they’re clients. It would be bad for business if I went around telling people who had hired me for what, wouldn’t it?” 

Tim nodded and sighed. He feared he was really fucking bad at this whole detective thing. “I’m just afraid whoever hired you might be not very upstanding.”

She put her cup of sweet jasmine tea down and looked at him. “You’re obviously new to this.”

Tim smiled ruefully. “That obvious, is it?” 

To his surprise her eyes were kind as she nodded. “Yes. It is rather obvious. You’re not protecting yourself very well. You have something inside you that helps you see people for what they really are.” She hesitated but then went on. “No matter if they are magic users or not.”

“Oh,” Tim said. The wolf stirred inside him. They were both curious. 

“Oh,” she said. “I have only ever come across tales of what I think you are. I think you never applied these gifts to non-magic users?”

“No, I never – I mean, it’s all instinct really,” Tim answered. He hadn’t come here for advice for himself, but he was going to take it. Every little bit that this woman – who was so much wiser and smarter and skilled in these things – was going to offer him. 

“That is understandable, and I bet to your –“

“Wolf,” Tim whispered. 

Her eyes widened for a second before she schooled her features, “to your wolf the magic-users are way more interesting. Why would you even want to sniff mere humans if there was so much more out there, right?”

“Right,” Tim agreed. It made perfect sense. That was why he hadn’t been able to see through his ex-lover who had betrayed him. That and probably the fact that he had been a fool blinded by love. Brian had been just so fucking sweet. 

“I like you Timothy, you’re interesting and you’re polite,” the witch said. Why couldn’t he remember her name? 

“Thank you,” Tim replied. 

“Here is a piece of advice: maybe you and your wolf should sniff around the people who are close to Lord Tarajewitsch. Maybe, I don’t know, the wolf can smell malice or ill will?”

Tim focused himself inwards to where the wolf was lazily watching and listening. When he communicated with the wolf it wasn’t like speaking to a person or to himself, it was something else entirely. The wolf was a part of him but at the same time, he was his own being. With his own emotions, instincts and will.  
The wolf seemed confident enough about this new adventure. 

“Thank you for your time and advice,” Tim told her. 

“Try not to get killed, Timothy,” she said. 

He nodded, said his goodbyes and left. 

Once outside he looked around: there was no cozy house in sight. Everything was covered in a layer of snow and it was bitterly cold. He knew that Ruthenia had spring and summer, because he had lived here a year already and had experienced all seasons, but still in that moment summer seemed very far away. He huffed. The mild winters and long summers of his childhood were gone and lost to him. He was making a new life here and he would get used to this sooner or later. Tim pulled his fur-coat around him and pulled his head down a bit more. He was as protected against the cold wind as he could be. It was time to get home and talk to Carter. 

~+~  
“At least we got a solid lead,” Carter said as he was pouring them both tea. Tim was putting on dry socks, as his boots had gotten thoroughly soaked from the walk in the snow. 

Carter gave Tim’s feet a look. “Maybe we should buy a horse.”

Tim hadn’t had a horse since he had been shipped of to Ruthenia. Like every boy from the upper class he had learned to ride at a young age. Once the wolf had shown up – or awakened, horses could be a bit nervous around Tim. 

“I don’t think we should waste our money on things like horses,” he replied. 

Carter frowned. “If we want this business of ours to be successful we need to have a way to get around and meet clients.” 

Which was of course true. “Wee need food and clothes more than we need a horse, and we haven’t solved a single case yet,” Tim argued. 

Carted handed him a cup of tea and sipped from his own. They were in the kitchen, because the fire in the library hadn’t been lit; both Tim and Carter had been out pursuing leads in their own unique ways. 

“You broke a few curses,” Carter said. 

“Yes,” Tim replied. He had done that, but most of the money they got was what Carter brought home by selling things he found in the attic at the markets around town. Tim had had money when he had first arrived in Ruthenia, but that hadn’t lasted half a year. He had still been coping with the situation then and hadn’t made many plans for the future. Deep down he had even hoped that maybe his father would reconsider or that maybe Brian would come to his senses and Timothy would be able to go home. He didn’t entertain those hopes at all anymore. “We would have starved if not for you.”

Carter blushed and then waved it away. “We wouldn’t have starved. The wolf would have kept us in rabbits.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I am grateful for all that you have done for me,” Tim said. 

“You saved my life,” Carter replied. 

Timothy was pretty sure that they had saved each other. 

“Anyhow, enough of that. Tell me what you found out,” Carter said. 

So Tim did. 

“A friendly witch, who would have thought?” Carter joked. 

“I know, right? It’s just strange that I can’t remember her name or how she looked, or the house.”

Carter shrugged like that wasn’t important. “Magic.” He stated. “What she said is that the easiest way to find out who has it out for Lord Tarajewitsch, is to sniff around the people in his life.”

Tim nodded, that was what he had gotten out of this as well. He just had no idea how to go about it. “I’ve never done it before. The wolf and I, we always only concentrated on the way magic smelled.” 

“We will have to practice then,” Carter said, pragmatic as ever. He finished his tea and then looked at Tim, expectantly.

“Okay?” Tim said.

Carter rolled his eyes. “Try it out on me. What is coming from me?”

Tim snorted. “You love me, I know that, Carter.”

Carter sighed. “Yes, but how does it feel?”

“It’s not really a feeling,” Tim tried. 

“What is it then?” Carter asked annoyed. 

“A smell. The wolf doesn’t feel magic inside someone, he smells it. Every magic user has a different smell, some smell really nice, some smell really bad-“ he stopped. He had never really thought about the why, but could it be, he wondered, that people with good intentions, good people, smelled good to the wolf and that evil people smelled bad to the wolf? The witch who had put the charm on Lord Alexander hadn’t smelled bad. The wolf had more or less felt at ease with her. 

“You just had an epiphany,” Carter stated. There was excitement in his voice. 

“I think yes, I just did. If good magic smells good to the wolf and bad magic smells bad to the wolf, I think I can use that to sniff out bad intentions or animosity in non-magic users as well.” It sounded plausible. The wolf had a way simpler mindset compared to humans. His feelings were always very strong – either bad or good. His mind flashed back to Edder, the first mate. He had smelled rotten, Timothy remembered. 

“It sounds like it could work,” Carter agreed. “We should try it out first before we go and ask Lord Tarajewitsch for favors. Maybe a night at one of the shadier taverns in town?” 

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” Timothy replied. 

“Tomorrow night then,” Carter said. 

Timothy nodded. 

~Five~  
The wolf was full of anticipation. It was infectious. Like a spark jumping from the wolf to Timothy. 

“You look…” Carter trailed off as he was putting on his fur lined boots. They were new, because they could finally afford to buy new boots and other necessary things thanks to Lord Tarajewitsch’s money. 

“What? How do I look?” Tim risked a glance in the mirror. He looked good. Scrubbed clean and with new boots and a nice new hat and scarf. He looked a bit more like his old self, he thought and wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. The old Timothy had been dangerously naïve after all. 

“Excited,” Carter finally settled on. He straightened and grabbed his new hat and scarf, put them on and grinned at Tim. 

“I am, the wolf is too,” Tim replied. 

“Is that a good thing?” Carter wanted to know. 

“Well, at least he’s not fighting me,” Tim said. Not that the wolf had ever really fought him. There had been times when the wolf hadn’t been happy with what Tim had been up to and he had made that very clear, but mostly they had each other’s backs. 

Carter snorted. “Let’s go and find us some bad people.”

Timothy nodded. 

~+~  
It took them over an hour to reach the next village by foot. It had started to snow soon after they had left the mansion and Tim was cold and wet and wanted nothing more than a hot mug of tea and a roof over his head.  
Carter made them walk by a few establishments before he settled on one. It wasn’t too shabby, but they had passed nicer ones for sure. 

“I want to make this easy for you,” Carter said after a questioning look from Tim. 

Tim snorted, but followed Carter inside the tavern. 

It wasn’t packed inside, but it was still early for the evening crowd. The décor was rustic, lots of woods and furs and a warm fire in a big fireplace. The fireplace was surrounded by chairs and a bench. All those seats were occupied already. Tim glanced longingly at the cluster of chairs and then made his way to the bar to buy them hot drinks.  
Once they had their spiced and in Tim’s case spiked tea, they found a table in the back, where it was colder, but still warm enough and watched the people. The spot was dimly lit and perfect for what they were trying to do. 

“Anything?” Carter asked after a few minutes. He had taken off his hat and his blond hair looked soft and tousled. For some weird reason Tim’s wolf approved of that. 

The wolf gave an amused snort and Tim shook his head. “It’s not like I know what I’m doing.”  
The wolf would know, but Tim didn’t think it would be a good idea to let his misty wolf out in this little tavern. People might get spooked. It could cause a riot. 

“Just breathe and concentrate on the people around you. Use me as a baseline for good,” Carter replied. 

Which, Tim had to admit, was sound advice. The wolf inside him snorted again and Tim told him to shut up and concentrate. They wanted to find the person who had cursed Lord Alexander after all. Tim reminded the wolf that he liked Lord Alexander.  
Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, he closed his eyes for good measure too. It certainly helped with the visual clutter. The wolf inside him stirred and sniffed in Carter’s direction. Concentrating on and capturing that scent to use as a baseline.  
Once they were fairly certain they knew how good smelled, they moved on to the other people in the tavern sitting around them. The wolf sniffed the people close to where he and Carter were sitting. None of them smelled like Carter of course, but they smelled close enough to the baseline of good that the wolf shook his head and moved on, their senses expanding outwards. It was a whole new sensation for Tim to be able to smell and hear people like this. He didn’t think he had ever been in sync like this with his wolf.  
He just let the wolf take the lead. He could feel, smell and hear Carter beside him, but soon the boy faded from his awareness as the wolf sniffed the people around them. Then a faint stink made their nose twitch. This person didn’t smell like the others, not at all. They didn’t smell like bad magic either, but it was a very unpleasant smell. Under the soft floral soap and human skin and sweat there was something rotten.  
Tim sneezed and opened his eyes.  
Carter grabbed his arm and Tim looked at him, blinking against the low light in the tavern. 

“And?” Carter asked. He seemed to be vibrating in his seat. “You’ve been out of it for half an hour.” 

“I think I found something,” Tim replied in nearly a whisper. 

“Good. Can you tell me who?” Carter asked. 

Tim shook his head, but it didn’t mean no. He just needed to get his bearings again. He had been more wolf than human for the last thirty minutes. The light was still too bright in his eyes, and he could smell way too much for his liking.  
He concentrated on his nose, sniffing and smelling until he had pinpointed where the rotten smell came from. It was a woman sitting at the bar, talking to the innkeeper. He nodded subtly in the direction of the woman. 

“Good,” Carter said. “Finish your cold tea, let’s pay and head to another tavern.”

Tim made a face at the cold tea. “Not going to finish this.” 

Carter shrugged. 

~+~  
They repeated the exercise a few more times over the next few days in different taverns and then they moved on to other places, the small shop one village over and then a garment store. After a week Tim and the wolf were pretty sure how ‘malice’ smelled. Bad intentions were a rotten smell that of course varied in intensity and subtility from person to person, but there was a base note. Like there was with good. 

“I think you’re ready now,” Carter said on a Friday morning, biting into a fresh raisin bun he had made. Apparently Carter hadn’t been able to stay in bed.  
Tim couldn’t understand that at all. He could always stay in bed. He wasn’t going to call Carter out on it, because when Carter couldn’t sleep, he puttered around in the kitchen and more often than not, they had delicious baked goods for breakfast in the morning. 

“Yes, I think we are,” Tim replied taking a sip of his tea. This was very good tea. Carter had insisted they bought some the last time they were in the neighboring village. Their pantry was stocked now too. 

“You should write Lord Tarajewitsch. He needs to invite all the suspects to a small get together and we should be invited as well. Or at least you,” Carter said. 

It was a solid plan, but Tim felt nervous anyway. He wondered what Lord Alexander Tarajewitsch would do or could do with the person who was intending to kill him with magic. 

“You look pensive,” Carter observed as he was buttering another raisin bun. 

“Just thinking,” Tim replied.

Carter gave him a look. “No, really? Tell me more.”

Tim smiled. “Smartass.”

“That’s why you like me,” Carter said, breezily. 

Which was of course true. “I was just wondering what Lord Alexander will do with the person who is intending to kill him, once he knows for sure who it is.”

Carter shrugged. “Really not our problem. We should in fact stay as far away from it as we can. We don’t want to get in the middle of rich men’s affairs.”

“Really? I thought butting into these things is how we are going to make a decent living?” Timothy asked. 

“Yes, but we are hired help. We don’t go and befriend our clients,” Carter took a sip of tea and Tim waited, because he knew Carter well enough by now to know that the boy wasn’t done yet. “Except for Lord Tarajewitsch. I think that ship has sailed already.” 

“We could still cut him off,” Tim replied, he was playing Devil’s advocate of course. They both knew that it would be better to keep Lord Alexander in their lives. 

“Don’t play dumb, Timothy. It doesn’t suit you,” Carter said. 

“I like him. The wolf likes him. You like him,” Tim replied. 

“So, we keep him in our lives,” Carter said. 

Timothy was pretty sure Carter had other motives as well, but he wasn’t going to pry. The facts were as followed after all: Lord Alexander had connections and could get them new clients. The Lord could also offer them protection if the need should arise. The wolf snorted at that. He was sure he could protect them just fine and Timothy had really no doubt about that. The wolf would maim and kill for his pack, small as it was right now. 

“Yes,” Timothy said. “We keep him in our lives.”

Carter nodded and went back to his breakfast. They finished it in silence and while Carter was taking care of the leftovers and dishes, Tim went to the library and composed a carefully worded letter to Lord Alexander Tarajewitsch. 

~+~  
An invitation to the Lord’s mansion came only two days later. It was written in Lord Alexander’s neat penmanship on heavy paper with a gold border and the family crest on it.  
Carter handed it over to Timothy, because Carter was the one who collected the mail. What little they got. 

“Well, what does it say?” Carter asked, sitting once again at Timothy’s feet.

The library was warm, but Carter had put a knitted blanket around his shoulders anyway. His cheeks were rosy from the outside cold. 

“Let me read it,” Timothy replied with a small smile. 

“Read it out loud,” Carter demanded, pressing against Tim’s legs. 

“It’s an invitation for this Friday evening. We are to join Lord Alexander Tarajewitsch at his mansion at eight o’clock for supper and cards.”

“You don’t play cards,” Carter cut in.

It was true that he hadn’t played cards at all since he was exiled to Ruthenia, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t play. He had been a little Lord in the making in his own right, back home. His father and his teachers had prepared him pretty well for his role in society. He would even get a title once his father died. He might not get any money from the old man, because that would probably go to his new children, but the title was Timothy’s. 

“I do,” Timothy said. 

“Well, good then. I hope you will win too. We can always use some extra money and I don’t feel bad getting it from Lords and Ladies.”

“Did you hear me? We are invited not only me,” Tim said, cradling his fingers through Carter’s soft blond hair. 

Carter snorted. “Yeah, but I won’t be sitting at the table. I hardly have the manners.”

Fuck, Tim thought, it was true. He was sure that Lord Alexander wouldn’t mind, but he knew that Carter would feel embarrassed by it. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim said. 

“For what?”

“Being so neglectful in your education. I will do better in the future,” Timothy promised. 

“You want to make a gentleman out of me?” Cater joked, but there was something in his voice that sounded suspiciously like hope. 

“Yes, that is exactly what I want to do. If you want to learn?” Timothy answered. 

Carter nodded and then changed the subject to the invitation and what kind of arrangements they needed to make to ensure that everything would go smoothly that Friday. 

~+~  
The mansion was opulent. More than any other Timothy had seen in his young life. It was distinctly different from those back home too. Lord Alexander clearly preferred light colors and lots of gold. 

“It’s –“ Carter started and then just shut his mouth, like words were failing him. 

Timothy nodded. He was pretty sure he understood. They had known that Lord Alexander was rich, but this was beyond what Tim had imagined Lord Alexander’s house would look like. It was an old family home, but it had been renovated. Tim was sure it had all the modern comforts.  
The butler gave them a once over, and after Tim had given him their invitation they were asked to follow.  
They were an hour early, mostly so Tim could talk with Lord Alexander in private. He was sure that whoever wanted Lord Alexander dead had spies in the Lord’s household. 

“Timothy,” Lord Alexander greeted him warmly and pulled Tim into a hug. Lord Alexander smelled like winter. Fresh snow and spices. Tim inhaled deeply and the wolf sighed in content. 

“Lord Alexander, thank you for the invitation,” Tim said. 

Alexander smiled. “Of course. I really hope to see you in my home more often after this affair is settled.”

Tim nodded. He could tell that Lord Alexander was sincere. 

“You devised a method to identify the guilty party?”

“Yes,” Timothy answered simply. 

“But you won’t tell me how you will do it,” Lord Alexander stated.

“Trade secret, my Lord.” 

“Of course,” Lord Alexander agreed easily.  
They made small talk while they waited for the other guests to arrive. Lord Alexander was very proud to show them around the mansion. Tim had been right, it had all the modern comforts. He knew that Carter was mentally making notes on how to improve their home on their budget. 

Once the guest started arriving Lord Alexander introduced Timothy to every single one of them. He shrouded Timothy in a bit of mystery, which Timothy was grateful for. He didn’t want to be known as the exiled lordling, unwanted by his family and poor to boot. He wasn’t any of that anymore. Well, money was still tight, but he was going to fix that little problem soon enough.  
While Lord Alexander was making introductions Tim’s wolf was looking for ‘bad’, ‘malice’ and ‘guilt. Most of the people, there were only ten guests invited, Tim and Carter included, smelled normal. Some smelled more pleasant than others, but none of them bad. Until a handsome man entered the parlor. He had Alexander’s coloring and some of his features, but was a few years older, bigger and broader than Lord Alexander. It had to be Alexander’s Uncle.  
The wolf snarled inside Tim and it took everything inside Tim to keep the wolf at bay. It wasn’t only because the man wanted Alexander harm in general, it was that he wanted to do Alexander harm right this minute. The rotten stench was coming off of him in waves. The man barely glanced at Timothy as they were introduced, like Tim was not worth his attention. It was clear he thought that Tim was beneath him.  
He exchanged a look with Carter and Carter nodded.  
They went ahead to the dinning room. Carter was going to look around.  
Tim was staying glued to Lord Alexander’s site. He had the feeling that Alexander’s Uncle was running out of patience and was ready to take matters into his own hands. 

~+~  
Dinner went by without a hitch, but when wine and dessert was served, Tim smelled something wrong. He leaned closer to Lord Alexander. The wolf snarled again. 

“Maybe you want to skip the cake, Lord Alexander,” Timothy whispered into his ear. 

The Lord blinked, was about to say something and then his eyes went wide, and he nodded.  
The slice of cake on Alexander’s plate was poisoned. The wolf could smell it.  
After dessert he took Lord Alexander aside. Alexander’s Uncle was seething in a corner of the very grandly furnished room. He had tried to excuse himself, but Alexander had insisted he stay a bit longer.

Carter joined them a few minutes later. “He bribed a kitchen maid. She didn’t know it was poison, or so she claims.”

“He really wanted to kill me,” Lord Alexander whispered. 

Timothy and Carter nodded.

“Will the maid confess to it?” Lord Alexander asked. 

“She already did to me,” Carter pointed out. 

“Yes, but will she do it in court?” Lord Alexander asked. 

“If she should live that long,” Carter answered, darkly. “By now of course your Uncle knows this attempt had failed as well and with us being here, he might suspect you are on to him.” 

“You have to deal with this quickly,” Timothy advised. 

“Yes, of course,” Lord Alexander replied, asked a few more questions about the kitchen maid and the poison and then went over to his Uncle.  
Timothy was ready to go home. Their role in this little drama was over after all. What would happen to his Uncle was in Lord Tarajewitsch’s hands. 

“You think he’ll be mad if we just sneaked out?” He asked Carter. 

Carter shook his head. “No, but we didn’t get the other half of our payment yet.”

“He’s a man of his word, I am sure he will pay us,” Timothy replied. 

Carter gave it a moment’s thought and then nodded. “Well, then we better get home. It’s a long way to walk in the snow.” 

They had rented a carriage to get here, but not to wait for them, which Timothy now regretted. 

“If only we had a horse,” Carter added with a cheeky grin. 

“Don’t worry, Carter, I do see a horse in our near future,” Timothy replied, because he had every intention to buy one, sooner rather than later. 

Lord Alexander was in a heated, but quiet argument with his Uncle, while guards were slowly entering the room.  
It was really time to go. Timothy was sure that Lord Alexander would inform them of what they needed to know once he came over with the other half of their payment.  
Which would probably be soon. 

~Epilogue~  
“Lord Alexander,” Tim said, and the Lord smiled. 

“Is this a bad time?” Lord Alexander asked. It was after noon, but Tim hadn’t been awake for long. He was sure he looked a bit disheveled. His black hair was a bit messy and his dress was casual. Still, he wasn’t going to send a Lord away. Especially not this Lord. 

Tim shook his head. “No, please come in.”

Lord Alexander looked around and not finding Carter close by asked about him. 

“He’s gone to the market,” Timothy answered, “That is why I opened the door.”

“Ah, yes. You don’t have any servants.”

“Between you and me, I can’t actually afford any servants,” Tim replied. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted a stranger in what he considered his and Carter’s space. Once they started rebuilding and renovating and tearing down in the spring, he would not have much say in that of course. But spring was weeks away still. “Please come inside,” he added. Mostly so he could close the door and keep the warmth inside where it belonged.  
Lord Alexander nodded and stepped inside the foyer. Tim closed the heavy wooden door and then lead Lord Alexander into the kitchen. He hadn’t had time to light the fireplace in the library yet, but Carter had gotten the one in the kitchen going, before he left for the market. So, it was the warmest room in the house. Once they had more money, the first thing they would do, was tear down part of the mansion to make it smaller and then install one of those new steam powered heating systems. 

“Tea?” Timothy asked, already getting out the tin with the good tea and two cups. 

“Yes, thank you, Timothy,” Lord Alexander replied, taking off his fur lined coat and hat. He hung the coat over the back of his chair and put the hat on the table.  
Tim made tea, found a tin of cookies and offered those as well. He was pretty useless in the kitchen, if he was honest with himself. His skills encompassed making tea and sandwiches. It was a good thing he had Carter.  
They sipped their hot tea in silence and Tim waited. Lord Alexander came here to talk to him, so he would talk, once he was ready. Tim had heard rumors about Alexander’s Uncle, but they had been sparse. Everything had been swept under the rug it seemed.

Finally, Lord Alexander put his teacup down and looked at Tim. “I haven’t thanked you and Carter for saving my life yet.”

“Yes, you did,” Timothy pointed out. 

Alexander smiled. “The first time, yes, when you lifted the curse, but not the second time. I really hadn’t been paying enough attention to the people close to me.” He sighed. 

“It’s always the people close to us that can hurt us the most, Lord Alexander, because they know us the best and we trust them,” Tim replied. He knew from experience after all. 

Lord Alexander looked at him, like he wanted to ask a very personal question, but then he shook his head and didn’t. His blue eyes were dark. Daker than Timothy remembered them being. He wondered if it was because he and his dragon were becoming one now.  
“I suppose that is true,” he settled on. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your Uncle?” Timothy wanted to know. 

“He was dealt with. And everyone who had helped him as well. The family couldn’t risk a public hearing and accusations, but I assure you that you and Carter won’t have to fear anything from that man. Neither will I,” Lord Alexander answered. Timothy could sense that there was a world of things about this that Lord Alexander wasn’t telling him, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really want to know. 

“I’m glad,” Timothy said. 

“Really?” Alexander asked, putting his head in his hands and looking at Tim. He looked years younger than his twenty-six years that way. His eyes were suddenly full of mischief. 

“Really. Carter and I grew rather fond of you over the last few weeks,” Timothy answered.

“I am really grateful you took on my case.”

“To be honest, it was mostly because of the money,” Timothy joked, and Lord Alexander laughed. 

“I like your honesty, it’s really refreshing,” Lord Alexander said. “I have the second half of your payment, plus a bit of extra.”

Timothy had half a mind to refuse that little bit extra, but he knew that if he did Carter would be cross with him.  
“Thank you, that is very generous of you.”

“I think it’s a small price to pay for my life,” he replied and then leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, will you pursue this as a career?”

“I think I will. My abilities are still growing, or maybe I am just figuring out how to use them for anything other than fun, but I also believe I have a real knack for these things.” 

“Fun? You used your magic for fun?” Lord Alexander asked. 

“Well, I was a rich spoiled princeling before I was sent here. It amused me and it amused the wolf,” Timothy replied. He had no qualms talking about his wolf with Lord Alexander because the Lord was bound by magic. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about Timothy’s wolf, even if he wanted to. “Now, as you see, I have to work to keep this lovely roof over my head,” he indicated the fading and peeling wallpaper and the cracked tiles over the sink. It surely had been a nice kitchen once upon a time, but pretty much all the grandeur of the house was gone now. 

“Your Aunt had been a colorful personality,” Lord Alexander said. “As children we were sure she was a witch. We dared each other to take something from her garden.”

“It’s a bit hard to imagine you, being one of those children, Lord Alexander,” Timothy said and Alexander smiled. 

“You’d be surprised what I used to get up to.” 

“As far as I can tell she was a witch,” Timothy replied. She had been probably exiled here for exactly that reason. It didn’t do to be too different in polite society. Fuck polite society, Timothy thought, and the wolf agreed. “Probably the only one in the family until I came along.”

“But you aren’t a witch, Timothy. You’re something else. Now that I am more in tune with my dragon side, I can feel the presence of your wolf. It’s magnificent. It’s very different than my dragon. The dragon is not a separate being like your wolf is. It doesn’t talk to me. I think it has become truly part of myself by now.”

“That is not a bad thing, Lord Alexander,” Timothy replied. “Especially in your position it might be better not to be able to turn into a dragon,” he added with a smile. 

Lord Alexander nodded. “But you are a whole different affair, Timothy.” 

Tim smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“I think you will fit right in with the people of Ruthenia, Timothy,” Lord Alexander said after a prolonged silence. 

“Maybe,” Timothy allowed. 

Lord Alexander grinned and it looked young and boyish. “I’m sure you will find that we are less stuffy than our cousins from the Great Empire of Gaul. There are a lot of things you haven’t experienced yet, because you have been hiding in this lovely ruin.”

“It is a lovely ruin, isn’t it?” Timothy said. “Carter has grand plans for this ruin.” 

“Young Carter has a good head on his shoulders, a pretty one too,” Lord Alexander replied. 

Timothy’s wolf growled. It must have shown in his eyes, because Lord Alexander leaned back and held up his hands as a sign of peace or surrender, Timothy wasn’t sure. 

“He’s fourteen,” Timothy said. And he’s been through enough shit, he thought. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just an observation, or well, maybe a compliment,” Lord Alexander replied. He didn’t seem upset about Tim’s little outburst, which was a good thing. Tim didn’t want to fight with Alexander. 

“It seems my wolf and I are very protective of that boy,” Tim said.

“I’m glad,” Alexander said and finished his tea. “Once you are ready, Timothy. I would like to introduce you and young Carter to a few of my friends.” 

“You think I’m hilarious at parties, don’t you?” Timothy asked. 

Alexander grinned. “I’m sure you are.”

~+~  
“You are up, dressed and there is a fire in the library,” Carter said as he put down the basket with groceries. 

“How do you know there is a fire in the library?” Timothy asked. “Also, don’t sound so surprised.”

Carter rolled his eyes. “It’s warmer in here than it would be if only the fireplace in the kitchen were burning. I know this house.” 

“Well, Lord Alexander came by and I made him tea and gave him cookies,” Tim replied. 

“Did he bring our money?” Carter asked, as he unpacked the basket. 

“In fact, he did. We had a lovely chat,” Tim answered. 

“Good. What happened to his Uncle?”

“He had been dealt with, there is nothing to fear from him,” Timothy replied. 

Carter threw him a look over his shoulder and then went back to putting away their groceries. “I think we should invest in an icebox.”

“Whatever for? I think a central heating system is more important right now.”

Carter put the eggs away and turned to look at Timothy. “It’s your money, of course and I agree that a central heating system is a good idea, but it won’t stay winter forever and an icebox would be handy during summer. Anyhow: first we should tear down the parts of the mansion we can’t fix. I’ve asked around. There are a few good craftsman and carpenters in the area. You will have to talk to them, preferably soon. They like to start building in the spring.”

“I-“

“You are the Lord of this manor, Timothy. You might not have wanted it, but it’s yours.”

“It’s ours. It’s our money too and I will get you an icebox,” Timothy said. 

“Thank you,” Carter replied. “Now, how about some breakfast. A man can’t live only on cookies after all.”

“They were excellent cookies,” Timothy said. 

“Of course, they were. I made them.”

“Breakfast would be lovely, maybe some eggs? And a slice or two of that lovely smelling bread. Maybe toasted?”

“It’s a good thing I like you, Tim,” Carter said. 

It was a good thing, Timothy thought. 

~+~  
It wasn’t quite a full moon yet, but the sky was clear, and the stars were twinkling. The woods were beckoning. Timothy had been running in the woods from time to time, since he had arrived in Ruthenia, but he had never seen them as his before.  
Tonight was different. This was his land, his territory. His Aunt’s will had been very clear about it. That lovely ruin was his and it would be a lovely home soon enough. He and Carter were already making it one.  
He looked up at the moon and then he opened the French door. It was a bit stuck, again. He was naked and shivering in the cold of the night. The wolf was pushing at his skin. He wanted out. They would both be warmer once they had fur. He closed his eyes and let it happen. It was an easy change, it had always been easy for Timothy. No pain, just a prickly warmth stealing over his skin, pushing at his bones and organs until he was standing on all fours, his eyes adjusting to not being able to see in color. But it didn’t matter, because there were so many shades of grey and silver.  
He had the urge to howl, but restrained himself as he was still technically inside the house. Soft footsteps and a sweet smell alerted him to Carter’s presence before he even spoke. 

“Go and run, howl at the moon. I know you want to,” Carter said, softly, as he stepped beside Tim. There was something like awe in his voice. “Don’t think there are many white wolves in these parts of the world, so when you scratch at the door to be let in a few hours I will know it’s you.” Carter pushed him gently. “Go on, have fun. You’re letting the cold in.”  
Timothy howled then and then he ran.


End file.
